


If You’re Gonna Lie

by justahopelessssromantic



Category: Mayans M.C. (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Heartache, Implied/Referenced Cheating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:41:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24230734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justahopelessssromantic/pseuds/justahopelessssromantic
Summary: Just a little something for Angel Reyes inspired by the song If You’re Gonna Lie by FLETCHER
Relationships: Angel Reyes/Reader
Kudos: 5





	If You’re Gonna Lie

I poured you a glass of wine and drank it for the second time. Then 7 PM turned to 10. 

Angel sat there waiting, wine glass in hand, for whenever it was that you were going to show up. He didn’t even like the shit, but it was your favorite so he bought it for you. 

He was now on his second glass. 

It was ten o’clock, which meant he had been waiting for three hours. You had dinner plans for seven o’clock, you promised you’d be there. He went through all the trouble of cooking you a fancy dinner, digging up one of his mother’s recipes, convincing EZ to help him until he perfected it. 

He went through all this trouble, for you.

Pouring himself another glass of the wine he took a drink, the liquid turning his lips red as he stared at the plates of food untouched and cold. By the time he realized you weren’t going to show up on time he didn’t feel like eating, so he just sat and drank, too disappointed to do anything with the food before him. 

This wasn’t the first time and wouldn’t be the last time you stood him up. He hated himself for giving you this power over him, but he loved you and he was weak.

And you're about to walk in that door and say some shit you said before. You're getting so repetitive. I'm finishing your sentences, But not in a good way

You’d be here soon though, he knew that, so he continued to wait. You’d walk through that door saying shit like, “I’m sorry baby, work held me late.” Or “My sister needed me. You know how she is.” Or even the classic “My car broke down again, you know it’s a piece of shit.” The lies were always the same, always so predictable.

By now he could finish your sentences for you, and not in the good way. 

I kinda like it when you hurt me. 'Cause you come over saying sorry.

However he welcomed the pain, you could even say he liked it when you hurt him because he knew you’d always come over apologizing, and he’d welcome you back into his arms.

He perked up hearing his front door open followed by the clicking of your heels as you made your way to the dining room. 

“I’m so sorry, baby,” you said as you stepped into the room discarding your leather jacket and hanging it over the chair, “My boss’s an-”

“An asshole and he kept you late again,” he finished for you, predicting your every word. He’d been here before, remember.

You chuckled, flashing him a smile that made him weak in the knees. “The food smells delicious,” you commented, changing the subject and looking over the beautiful set up, your favorite flowers were in a vase as the centerpiece next to your favorite wine.

“It’s fuckin’ cold. Not even worth it anymore,” he said, pushing back from the table in his chair. 

Sauntering over to him you sat down on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck, “I’m so so sorry, baby,” you bat your lashes at him, knowing that would soften him up, “Let me make it up to you,” you purred. 

So I put up with your lies just to have you for the night, baby.

His face gravitated towards you, it was as if he was under a spell whenever you were around. He knew you were lying, knew you didn’t mean it, knew there were others, but he’d push those thoughts away. 

At least you were here with him, he’d put up with the lies just to have you for the night.

So if you're gonna lie, do it in my bed. If you're gonna lie, at least do it in my bed. 

The two of you traveled to the bedroom, your lips and touch melting everything away from him. You pushed him down onto his bed, stripping before him, putting on a show for him. 

He was putty in your hands. 

You weren’t fully his, never would be, and that broke his heart. He had a horrible habit of falling for women who would never truly be his. 

Still he’d take what you would give him, ignore the pain for the little bit of yourself that was his. 

Discarding his own clothes in record time he pulled you into his arms flipping you over, eager to feel your skin against his, to bury himself so deep inside you he’d forget all the pain you caused him, forget all the lies.

You cut me down, you cut me deep. You say so many names in your sleep. 

It was only after you both had your release and he laid beside you in the dark that he couldn’t ignore it, the ache deep within him. The pain you caused him cut through him drastically, and you didn’t seem to notice or care. 

You’d fall asleep quickly, every time, and he’d be trapped in a sleepless state, cursed to hear the names of all the others spill from those beautiful, intoxicating lips of yours. 

Yeah, I can tell you've been having fun. I don't recognize a single one. The fuck you been doing?

It was obvious you had been having fun with many others, the names that came pouring out unrecognizable to him. He was at least thankful for that, the knowledge that you hadn’t been going behind his back with any of his brothers, playing them like you had been him. 

As he lay awake he'd often wonder just how many were in the same place as him, how many more names didn’t come out as you slept. How many other men were under your spell? How many were falling at your feet to be used and abused just like him?

I kinda like it when you hurt me. I start believing all your stories.

He’d try to rationalize it in his head, all the lies. He’d start doubting his judgement and believing your stories. It was easier to let himself be fooled, to let himself believe that what you were saying was true and that you were only his, than to face the truth, that you were playing him, breaking him, and he was letting you. 

He was just as much at fault as you.

But I'd rather hear you lie than hear you say goodbye to me.

The thought of you walking away from him was unbearable. As fucked up as it was he needed you, craved the little attention and affection you gave him. He’d rather put up with the lies than ever hear the words goodbye.

He needed you, and you used that against him.

You say you're out with friends, but you're with him tonight. I checked your location, good fuckin' try.

He caught you in your lie red handed. You had said you were going out with friends but you didn’t. He knew you weren’t going to, that you would be seeing another, but still his heart shattered when he saw where you were, the proof right in front of him lit up on his screen.

Knowing and knowing were two very different things.

I don't say a word, I don't wanna fight. 

Now you were apologizing for being out late with your friends, just another excuse, another lie, again. And here he was opening himself up to you, welcoming you into his bed, again. 

He knew, he had for so long now, but he couldn’t bring it up. He didn’t want to fight with you, he didn’t want you to leave him, so he’d stay quiet.

It was a vicious fucking cycle.

By loving you, I'm losing me every night

Sound asleep beside him he lay awake again lost in his own head. He was losing himself, losing himself more and more each night he let this continue, each night he chose to ignore everything and look past the lies, each night he let you treat him so.

By loving you he was losing himself and soon he’d be lost forever.

If you're gonna lie, make it worth it.


End file.
